


Adrift

by Vexed_Wench



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Amnesiac Sam, Community: fanbingo, Community: spn_cinema, Inspired by a Movie, M/M, POV Sam Winchester, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-26 23:45:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5025361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vexed_Wench/pseuds/Vexed_Wench
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam had his future planed out with Dean. It took a few years serendipity, amnesia and three de-aged hunters to make it happen.</p><p>Written for the prompt (s): Round 6  at spn_cinema and the move remix square on my fanbingo card. My movie was Overboard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adrift

Then 

Sammy looked outside the dirty living room window for what felt like the twentieth time in the last half an hour. He knew he was being ridiculous; he would hear the Impala's engine no matter where he was in the house. He still had doubts about his plan. He reminded himself that he didn't doubt how much he loved Dean. For that matter, he knew how much Dean loved him. It would all work out and by morning they would be on their way to California together.

It figured that the one night he could manage to have everything fall into place Dean wouldn't come home. Sammy shook his head, trying to clear away his nerves. The worst thing that could happen, he reminded himself, was that Dean would call to tell him something came up and Sammy would have to try again another night.

He paced around the crappy little place they'd been renting for the past couple of months. He'd managed to convince Dean that he wanted to graduate from the local high school. He told Dean that after all the hard work they both put into his education, it would be a shame not to walk on stage with the graduating class. That it was at least one _normal_ thing he could do that wouldn't fuck up a hunt.

He knew it was a dirty trick to prey on Dean's pride like that. He knew Dean quit school to help support him. He always made it clear that Sammy had brains and he'd better damn well use them. He wondered if Dean realized how many times he manipulated him over the years. He was pretty sure Dean did. It made Sammy realize how much Dean must love him to let him get away with it.

Sammy promised himself that when they got settled in their new place, no matter what it looked like, he would be grateful for it. He would even try to curb the crappy shack comments about their current place in his head as long as he could get what he wanted. He just hoped that they would be starting their new life together in something better than the place they were currently renting.

He knew he was being a spoiled brat by complaining even if it was in his own head. He'd always hated that they lived like this. He wondered which was worse, the crappy flop houses or the cheap motel rooms they rented. They stayed in places that even the cheapest nastiest of whores and junkies would run screaming from.  
Sam knew that no matter how often he bitched about their living conditions it never really seemed to help. It always made him feel better getting it off of his chest, but unfortunately, it was only temporary. When he got older, he realized that while his snide remarks had the desired effect of pissing of their dad, they also cut Dean deeper than anything ever could. 

It didn't take that long to figure out Dean worked as many hours as he could so he could keep a roof over Sammy's head. What cash their dad left them was barely enough to feed them, let alone upgrade them to a slightly better crappy place. That meant that any extra comforts they had were really thanks to Dean's money and hard work. He felt like such an idiot when he realized how long it had taken him to figure that out. Once he did, he tried to keep his complaints to where their dad would hear them more often than Dean. Their dad had been looking at him like he was a freak someone had left on their doorstep for a while now. It was that one or the look that clearly asked _where the hell did we go wrong with you_?

Sammy couldn't remember the last time he and John had a nice normal father and son relationship. It seemed like forever since he'd been old enough to ask questions that the chasm between father and son steadily grew. His dad just couldn't understand that he had a need to know why things had to be done a certain way. Their dad seemed proud of the fact that Dean was able to follow orders blindly. It was always a disappointment that Sammy couldn’t. That was the answer to the question about why things fell apart with their dad. He always assumed it was over hunting, but lately Sam wasn't so sure.

That was why he always preferred to do anything hunting related with Dean. His brother took the time to explain why it was important to do things a certain way. Even if it was something as simple as _' That fucking whack job eats people, and you and I are people, you dumb ass!'_ He never seemed to really mind when Sam would ask him again after the adrenaline had worn off. Then Dean would usually give him a more detailed explanation of the lore as well as his own thoughts on the hunt. He made sure that Sammy knew why they had to do things the way he said to do them. Sam always dealt with it better than ‘because I said so.’ Sammy didn't always agree with Dean, but he did respect him.

Dean also took him seriously when he asked why they couldn't do things another way.  
They fought about it at times; Sam chalked that up to be brothers more than anything else. Dean never treated him like he was a stupid little kid. If he had an idea about how to deal with a hunt Dean would consider it.  
If he were honest with himself Dean treated him better than anyone. He knew most of the girls he hung out with in school were jealous over it too. Their own boyfriends wouldn't even do half the crap Dean did for him.

It wasn't like he could explain to his friends that he and Dean had a very fucked up codependent relationship. He'd grown up listening to his friends complain about their siblings. He never really understood it. There had plenty of fights over the years that'd turned dirty and bloody. They both had caused each other more injuries than they would've liked. Yet Sam knew that nothing would ever keep Dean away if he needed him. Even if he'd gotten the upper hand during one of their regular sparring matched and had somehow managed to really hurt Dean, his brother would still be there for him.  
That was the way it had always been with them. Sammy assumed it was the way it would always be. When he was younger, he thought it would be him and Dean on the open road, until they found the place where the highways ended.

When they were little Sam had assumed everyone's big brother was like Dean. He never realized that most big brothers were a brother, father, mother and best friend all rolled into one.  
Sadly, their relationship felt strained when he turned fourteen. He became a raging shithead that thought the world was there to do his bidding. They may've been Dean's words, but Sammy knew that he earned them. Somehow, he had turned into a selfish little bastard. He wasn't sure when it had happened, but he could do his damnedest to change his attitude.

The worst part was he suddenly felt like he had to test Dean at every turn. When he got a little older, he realized that he needed Dean on his side more than pissing him off. He also knew Dean would always be by his side. Somewhere along the line, they both realized it was easier to fight monsters if they weren't also fighting each other.

Sam checked the clock once more and wondered what was keeping Dean. He'd put a lot of effort into planning the perfect night. He'd already changed his clothes three times. He wanted to look nice, but not like he was trying. He wished he had someone to call and ask their opinion about what he was doing. He laughed aloud at the very thought. Everyone that knew him also knew Dean and that they were brothers. He could just imagine the scandal tonight would cause if everything went according to his plan. He was willing to leave town on a moment's notice as long as Dean agreed with his plans for the night. He reminded himself that he'd better finish getting dressed if tonight had any chance of happening.

He finally decided to wear his newest jeans with a white button down shirt. Sam wondered if he should've gotten a haircut. He thought that might've looked like he was trying too hard.  
Sam tried not to go running to the door when he finally heard Dean pull up to the house.  
The last thing he wanted to do was look like an overeager kid. If tonight was going to work the way he needed it to, then Dean had to see him as an equal. He needed the two of them to be on equal footing. He really wanted Dean to see him as something more than a demanding little brother.  
"I'm beat and ready to just drop. I think every dumb ass in the city was in the shop today. You know those horrible jokes in the 'Digest' about how a blonde walked into a place. Change it to every damn hair color and that, my dear Sammy, was my colossal of a fucked up day."

Dean stripped off his old black tee-shirt as he walked to the fridge to grab a beer. Sam watched his shoulders slumped when he realized that they were out. Dean finished the last bottle while they watched the news the night before.

"I'm sorry, Dean. That really sucks. Maybe you'll feel better after a hot shower?" Sam worried that all of his planning was going to be derailed by Dean's bad day at work.  
"Dude, I'm beat. Maybe you can scrounge up something for yourself to eat." Dean walked off towards their room.

Sam couldn't believe his luck had turned so bad so quickly. He tried to hide his disappointment from Dean. He hoped he could at least make some of his plan still come together. He'd thought about making dinner himself, but he wanted to do something special. If tonight was going to end up the way he'd hoped, it would be better to do it someplace else. He wanted someplace that their dad couldn’t possibly stumble back into. He doubted their dad would be home anytime soon. He'd been following a string of hot leads that were sure to lead him to _The Demon_. He quickly tried to think of something else. Anything, besides their dad, would be a welcome thought. He knew that if their dad had any idea what he'd been planning, he never would've left. Sammy doubted that even The Demon himself would be able to drag him away.

His heart sunk when a search of the kitchen turned up one slice of bread that smelled a bit funky, one slice of bologna, and a lone dented can of Spaghetti-O's that had rolled to the back of the highest shelf. His impromptu plan B was a bust. There wasn't enough to cobble together any kind of meal.

"Did you find anything you like?"

Sam almost fell off the chair he'd dragged over to see if any stray cans had rolled back on the top shelf. He was surprised Dean wasn't sprawled out on the bed in a very manly sulk after the way he came home.

"Not really, unless you want any of this." Sam showed him their meager supplies.

"Yeah, I forgot to mention I had a late lunch so it's all yours, man. Tomorrow, I promise we’ll do something better. You can pick anywhere you want to go. We can even go someplace with a real salad bar."

Sam knew he was lying. If he'd scored a free lunch he would've mentioned it when he came home. Why did Dean always have to be such a self-sacrificing asshole?

"We can do better than this." Sam grinned and tossed the dented can back in the cabinet.

"Maybe tomorrow, Sammy. Like I said, I'm beat."

Sam knew that it was Dean's wallet that was beat. The bribe for tomorrow was because that's when Dean would get his paycheck.

"How about we go out." Sammy gave Dean his best puppy dog eyed look. He knew his brother could never resist the puppy eyes.

"I told you..." Dean started to speak when Sammy cut him off.

"Dean, did you notice I'm dressed and ready to go out?"

“No, Princess, I must have missed that. Is that a new hairdo as well?"

"Yeah, I went to your girl." Sammy winked and stuck his tongue out. He easily dodged the punch, he knew was coming.

"I guess it's just me tonight. So who's your date? Anyone I know? What did you have planned?"

Sam could tell Dean was beginning to worry that he would be asking him for cash. As if Sam was too stupid to realize he was broke. What kind of dumb ass did Dean think he was? It was bad enough that he expected Sam to just leave him hungry, but to embarrass him on top of everything else was too much. Sam thought he'd been convincing Dean that he was a mature adult lately. He's been doing everything Dean had asked him to do with minimal bitching. He made sure that he kept the house as tidy as he could, but there were some things that even a gallon of industrial bleach wouldn't even touch.

"I guess if you take her at least two towns over and can discreetly pay the tab, you can use an emergency card." Dean nervously ran his fingers through his still damp hair.

"Why would I do that?" Sam asked him.

"Cool, you found someone who is willing to pay. That’s awesome, Sam. Wait, I hope she's picking you up. You are _not_ taking my Baby." Dean hopped up on the kitchen counter.

"Okay, there's so many things wrong with what just came out of your mouth."

"Huh? Car, date, money, girl, add all of that together and it means Sammy almost has a social life." Dean ticked each point off with an imaginary checkmark in front of Sam's face.

"How about assuming I made plans that I knew I couldn't afford? That would be irresponsible. How would I even discreetly pay with an emergency card? I guess if had one I could play it off as Dad's or maybe yours. Maybe an uncle now that I think about it. Still, that would be awkward. What would this girl I asked out think? Either I'm a loser that can't buy her the dinner I _asked her to go on_ or I'm a thief. Do you really want me to date a girl that would be impressed by either of those things? On to the second thought, who said it was a girl?" Sam smirked.

"Girl, dude, sock puppet that can pay the bill, whatever gets your rocks off." Dean poked him.

"Keep that in mind," Sam mumbled. He waved Dean off when he raised an eyebrow at the comment. "I know your sweats are comfortable, but maybe you could change into something a little better?" 

"Since when does a dented can of pasta require a dress code?"

"How about since we are going to go out. Come on, Dean, we both have a free day tomorrow. Dad won't be back for a week. A week will be the earliest and you know he usually rolls in late and not early. We deserve a night off. Think about it, when was the last time you had any fun?"

"You and I went shooting just the other day. That was fun," Dean reminded him.

"Yeah, that was loads of fun. Just like it's been for years now. When was the last time you had fun with something that wasn't connected to hunting or work?" Sam was trying to prove a point and Dean was being a stubborn ass. Sam reminded himself that he had a plan and he needed to follow it.

"What do you want, Sammy? Do you want me to admit that we're broke? I had to buy new tires and it took a chunk out of last week's check." Dean sounded defeated. That was the last thing Sam wanted to hear.

"No, that isn't what I wanted. Fuck, I'm trying to explain something to you. Maybe I was trying to have a moment here and you're not helping. You know I've tutored people for extra cash. I thought why not go out and have a good time. Who else would I rather go out with than you? I planned out the night, but then you came home worn out and I thought maybe we could do it another night. I realized the only reason you were claiming you were tired is because you were being so... _you_. Why not let me take you out tonight? All you have to do is change your clothes and you could let me drive. Or not, I'm fine with just navigating." Sam quickly decided not to press his luck and ask for Baby's keys.

"How dressed up do I have to be? I don't see why we have to get dressed up to grab a burger."

"I never said we were grabbing burgers. I said, ‘let me take you out.’"

"What're you trying to say, Sammy? You asking me out like on a date?"

"I'm saying that I appreciate all the crap you do for me and I wanted to say ‘thank you.’ I thought saying thank you with food would be appreciated. Fine _whatever,_ I wanted to do something nice, but if it offends you this badly we can stay home and split Spaghetti-O's and half an old crusty bologna sandwich!" Sam yelled as he stomped off to what passed for their front porch.

He sat on the sagging and weathered steps with his knees tucked up tight against his chest. Why did Dean have to make even the simplest things so difficult? All he wanted was to do something nice with him. You would've thought he was asking for a kidney or something. Sam thought about it and realized that it would've been easier to get a kidney out of his brother. He wondered what that said about their relationship.

"I'm sorry. I really did have a truly crap filled day. It's not your fault and I know you just wanted to do something nice. I also know that you've saved every spare dime for a reason only you seem to know about." Dean sat next to him on the porch.

"You make me sound like Scrooge McDuck or something." Sam bumped Dean with his shoulder.

"If the bill fits..." Dean laughed  
.  
"You're really not funny." Sam rolled his eyes at the lame comment.

"What do you mean? I'm hysterical. It's not my fault the humor gene missed you." Dean dodged the weak punch Sammy threw his way."So what’s your big plan?" Dean sounded like he was ready to be at least a little serious.

"Why don't you change outta the sweats and see for yourself?"

"I'm comfortable. Why can't we just order take out and maybe you could splurge on a few beers?"

"Will you let me drive?" Sam wondered if Dean would let him take his Baby. He thought it was a win/win situation he either got to drive or Dean would get dressed and he would have the night he wanted.

He watched as Dean thought about it. He knew Sammy was a good driver, but the 'Pala was his Baby. Sam knew that Dean would rather lose a limb than have anything happen to the damn car. It was wisecracks like that one that made Dean keep her keys just out of his reach.

"If you scratch her..."

"I’ll die a slow painful dishonorable death," Sam finished the threat for him. Dean had used the same one for years. The fact that he always used it didn't make Sam take it any less seriously. He knew what Dan meant was “I will make you so miserable you will wish for death if you so much as scratch her paint.”

"Her keys are on the counter."

Sam made a mad dash for the offered keys, before Dean could change his mind. He was sorry that his original plan was falling apart. The more he thought about it, the more he thought that Dean might not have appreciated the cozy Italian restaurant where he'd made their reservation. He could just hear Dean snarking about letting him watch 'Lady and the Tramp" one too many times when he was little. Afterwards, he would joke that they weren't going to reenact the spaghetti scene.

Sam quickly drove to the little barbecue place that wasn't far from their house. He ordered the biggest family deal with the most variety they had on the menu. He barely paid attention to the girl behind the register and just agreed to add one whatever she was trying to ups sell him on. He was grateful when she asked about dessert. He knew that they made the best fruit pies in the county. They'd won blue ribbons for both the Dutch apple and their cherry every time they entered them at the fair.

Sam checked his cash and added one of each to the bill.

As he shoved the bags in the front seat next to him, he thought the chances of something to make Dean happy with them had to be great. He knew he had a bottle of Jack that he'd hidden for later in the night. He didn't want either one of them to get to drunk. He didn't want Dean to change his mind in the morning and claim it was just the whiskey that had clouded his judgment. If he played his cards right, tonight would be the first step towards the rest of his life. He's been planning it for so many years he didn't want anything to fuck it up.

A quick stop at the convenience store, where he didn't know the guy behind the counter, and his fake ID card, enabled him to buy a twelve pack and he was on his way back to Dean. He pulled the car into the driveway and took a moment to compose his thoughts. He reminded himself of what his future could and should be. He just had to convince Dean that he was right. He grabbed the food and the beer, and reminded himself that Dean had never been able to tell him no before when he really wanted something. He hoped that pattern would hold true.

"That was quick. My Baby's alright, you didn't scuff anything in your rush to get back here did you?"

"Nope, she's fine. I just remembered there was a barbecue joint not far from here. We just never seem to drive by it when it's open," Sam explained as he spread the take out containers on the coffee table in front of Dean.

"Did you order the whole menu?"

"You and I can kill a family meal easily enough. Besides, we both like leftovers." Sam didn't want to admit he'd been too busy thinking about what should happen after they ate. He really hadn't been paying attention to what he ordered.

"Yeah, we've bought an extra chicken to have leftovers, but this spread is a feast."

Sam was happy to see Dean load his plate as he put the beers in the 'fridge. He grabbed them each a bottle from the pack. He handed one to Dean as he sat beside him on the old couch.

"Level with me, Sammy, what did you do?" Dean looked him in the eyes as if he could suss out any lies he was trying to think of.

"What makes you think I did something?"

"You dropped enough money on this food to feed us for at least the weekend, if not longer. Normally, when you have extra cash, it's burning a hole in your pocket, and you spend it at the used book store. Maybe, if you're in a really spendy mood, it’s in one of the better thrift shops. So I can only assume you fucked up monumentally and you thought food and beer would be the best way to bribe me into helping."

It was embarrassing to admit how right Dean was. "If you don't want it, I can make you the Spaghetti – O's. It won't take but a minute to get them hot."

"Wise ass." Dean smacked him on the back of his head.

"Why do you think it's something bad?" Sam was trying to recall the last bad thing he'd done. What he really had to figure out was if he'd done anything Dean would consider a bad thing. He learned long ago that what Dean frowned on and what society did were two very different things. The rare times Sammy had actually been suspended from school, Dean always managed to turn it into a mini vacation day.

Sam shrugged his shoulders, while he loaded his plate with a small sampling of everything. He had no idea how he was going to get any of the food down. Somehow he managed to finish half of his plate, before he decided they both needed another beer. He wanted to break out the hard stuff, but he knew it would cause them more problems in the long run.

When Sam realized he was as full of food and beers as he was going to manage, he took a deep breath and worked up his nerve to finally broach the subject he'd been avoiding. He went to find the letter he had hidden in his duffel. He and Dean had made a pact when Dean hit puberty to stay out of each other’s bags. They realized it was the only real privacy they'd have in the cramped motel rooms. Even their bathroom time was easily interrupted by the other.

"What's this?" Dean wondered as he caught the letter Sam tossed his way.

"My big news..." Sam mumbled and squished himself into the corner of the couch.

"You got into Stanford. You even managed to score a scholarship. I always knew you were smart."

"I know you've always believed in me."

"Is that why we had to stay here? You knew you were going to get in and wanted to be here for the fucking letter. Why didn't you just tell me? Sam, did you think I wouldn't understand?"

"No, Dean, I really wasn't sure I was going to get in. I only applied to a handful of schools. I had to narrow down my choices to the ones with the best scholarships. I can't see Dad offering to support me while I'm away, can you?"

"You could've told me what you were planning. Did you really think I’d make you stay here and be miserable? That I wouldn't back you up on trying to have a better life, if you could have one? Don't get me wrong; what I want is for you and me in the Impala, fighting the nasty crap 'till we're old and gray. You know I'm going to do that. I'm a hunter. I have cheap booze and strong coffee running through my veins just like Dad. Sammy, you always wanted more out of life. You were never happy with the roaming nomad life we've had all these years."

"I know, Dean. I'm sorry. I wish I could be more like you," Sam mumbled.

"I don't wish that for you. Hell, Sammy, I wanted to keep you outta the life as long as I could. If it were up to me, you never would've found out about the creepy crawly shit that wants us dead." Dean scrubbed his fingers through his hair. Sammy figured if it were longer his brother would've pulled it out by now.

"Dean, I know that."

"Then why don't you explain why you hid this? I'm still not hearing a why from you. I would've helped. Hell, I can still send you what I can. I'm sure you'll still need money while you're out there. It’ll be even easier to send you crap. With a permanent address there's no need to worry about a drop box."

"Dean, can we talk about that later?" Sam tried to get their talk back on track.

"No wonder you've squirreled away every dollar you could get your hands on. I really wish you've told me sooner. You are going to need so much crap. The dorms don't have maid service. Not that we ever really use them, but you'll still need to clean crap. You can't call the front desk and ask for sheets and towels when you're out of clean ones. You'll need your own crap. I think I have an emergency card that will take a bite out of it, but I'm sure I can manage.  
"  
"Yeah, about living there. I was thinking about looking at a few places off campus when I get there."

"I know it's been awhile since we last had a real home and not a crap flop house. Take my word for it, houses are expensive and a pain in the ass. Besides, we may be able to scrape up enough to get you a passable dorm room, there's no way I can manage a whole house."

"I'm not asking you to cover all my bills. How spoiled do you think I am?"

"You'll be busy with school. Stanford won't be like high school. You're going to have to work your ass off. I bet if your grades slip they’ll take your scholarship away. I don't think you can work forty plus and keep your grades up. A real house will cost at least a full-time job plus extra help. I can't see you running away from us and landing in another crapfest like this one."

"I'm sorry; I gave you such shit about the places we stayed over the years," Sammy apologized.

"Whatever, it’s my job to take care of you. It always has been."

"You know what's sad? I can't remember the last time when we had a real house. Not one of these crappy ass flop houses, but an honest to god nice house in the 'burbs," Sam softly admitted.

"Our old house was nice. I can still remember my old room. Sometimes when I'm drunk enough I can even remember yours."  
"It must've been great back then. Did you ever think about what our life would be like if The Demon had never showed up?" Sam wondered.

"Not really. Why waste the time and energy worrying about what I can't have?"

"What if you could? What if we both could have the future we were meant to have? Dean, would you want that?"

"We've been hunters for so long I'm not sure I could be anything else. Sammy, what are you getting at?"

"You always told me I could be anything I wanted to be when I grew up. Did you mean it?

"Why would I lie about that? If I thought you were gonna be a dumb kid your whole life I wouldn't have pushed you to do your schoolwork. I’ve gotta say right about now it feels like you're talking in circles. I know you want something, but I'll be damned if I can figure out what."

"What I want is for you to come with me. There's no reason not to. Before you complain about leaving Dad alone, let me point out that he's been leaving us alone for years. Lately, we have had more hunts alone than with him. We've worked it from start to finish. We did the research, made a plan, crafted our IDs and back stories all on our own. They weren't the prettiest plans a couple of months ago, but with each one we did we improved. I'm not saying we're as good as Dad, but you have to admit we’re a whole lot better than most of the hunters we've met."

"Yeah, we do make a great team. You and I took down shit even Dad wasn't sure we were ready to deal with. I knew we could do it. Between your research and my weaponry skills we’ll always be unbeatable. But I don't know about staying with you there, and I'm not just saying that because of Dad," Dean interrupted him.

"For as long as I can remember it's _always_ been you and me, Dean. You're the one person I know I can always count on. I know you don't like the touchy feely moments, but this time we need to have one. I want you to understand that I know exactly what I'm asking you."

"Shit, Sammy, you're scaring me. What could you need that’s this important? I already promised you one of my emergency cards. I can hustle extra cash along the way for whatever else you'll need. I can always swing by and drop off cash if I'm close enough or just mail it if I'm not. Are you worried about being unarmed? You know whatever you think you can hide in your dorm is yours. Or did you want help warding your room? Personally I think you should think of a way to ward your whole floor if not the building." Dean nudged his shoulder.

"For once, can you please be serious? I'm trying to have an honest conversation about the rest of our fucking lives. Man, this is hard enough without you acting like an ass."

"How is wanting to keep you safe acting like an ass?"

"You know this was a lot easier in my head."

"Really? You've been practicing this conversation for a while now? Tell me, Sammy, how long how have you been daydreaming about leaving me?"

"Dean that's what I am trying to explain, I don't want to leave you. I want you to go with me. I want us to have a new life. I want us to start over. I want it to be someplace where no one knows us and they don't know we're brothers."

"Why would anyone care about that?" Dean asked him.

"What do you mean why would they care? People care about stupid things like that. I don't think most people would easily overlook a homosexual incestuous couple in their neighborhood." Sam sounded like he was trying his best not to yell.

"The fuck... Sammy, when you said come with me you mean like come with me?" Dean made some weird hand motion between them.

"Why is that so surprising? Like I said earlier for as long as I can remember it's been you and me. So yeah, Dean, that is exactly what I was talking about. Someplace where we can just be us. Two guys living together. I can go to school and you can take some classes or just get a mechanic job. Something that you like. We can still hunt on the weekends and school breaks. The important part is we can just be us without having to worry about what people think." Sam slid onto Dean's lap. He worked up his courage and kissed Dean.

It was nothing like the first kiss he'd been hoping for. He'd been hoping that Dean would've been a little more enthusiastic. He wasn't expecting to be dumped on his ass.  
"What the fuck?" Dean demanded.

"I could ask you the same thing. What’s your problem?"

"I'm sorry, Sammy, it's not every day my little brother tries to shove his tongue down my throat."

"You can't tell me you're this surprised. I know you're not that stupid."

"So what does that mean? I'm only a little stupid?"

"I thought we were on the same page. I thought that’s why you were always pushing me to do better. The reason we kept up with the drills and the hunting crap even though Dad’s gone more than he's here. I thought you were getting us ready to be the best damn team we could be. I thought we were working on our common goals," Sammy explained as he sat on floor where he'd landed at Dean's feet.

"You've got be kidding me same page? Sammy, I don't think we're even reading from the same fucking book."

"You really feel like that?" Sammy hoped Dean just needed time to think about what he had planned for their future.

"Yeah. Sammy, are you really ready to throw everyone in our life away that easily? You have to realize that Dad will never accept what you want. What about Uncle Bobby? Do you think he'll still want us in his life? What about all the people that know us as Sam and Dean, John Winchester's boys. Do you really think anyone will want to hunt with us? Hell, we'll be lucky if they don't hunt us." Dean sounded frustrated.

Sam wondered where he went wrong. He was sure by this point in the night Dean would've already had them both naked in bed. They should have been arguing over who was going to pack the car.

"Dean..." Sammy wanted to plead his case once more.

"Sammy, I'm sorry. I don't know how you got that idea in your head. I do love you, but you have to understand I'm not ready to walk away from everyone we know. I've got to get some air. We need to figure out a way to work through this and get back to where we were before you dropped your bombshell on me."

Dean carefully got out of the chair so he wouldn't touch Sammy. Sammy watched as he grabbed his wallet and keys, before walking out the front door.

Sammy wanted to run after him, but he knew that would just make things worse. He knew that Dean wouldn't change his mind. He picked himself up and grabbed his bag, before calling one of the few people he was friendly with in town for a ride to the bus station.

He bought his ticket and found a seat in the back of the bus station. He pulled his phone out and wasn't surprised that Dean hadn't called. It still hurt that he hadn't. He bet Dean still thought he was curled up on the floor, waiting for him to come home. Checking the time, Sam realized that his dad would be napping, before the night’s hunt he had planned so it would be the perfect time to call.

 _"Dad, I know things have been tense between us. I'm sorry I'm not more like Dean. I know you would've been happier if we were both the hunter and son he is. I got into college. Dad, I got a full scholarship to Stanford. Let's face it; I will never be a real Winchester. I love you, Dad. I'm sorry it ended like this."_ Sam hung up his phone and dropped it in the nearest trash can. He boarded the bus to California and did his best not to look back. He knew there was no way he could repair his relationship with Dean. He hated to admit how much it hurt to walk away from both of them.

The Road So Far

"I don't understand why we have to stop here of all places? What can we possibly do in Elk Cove, Oregon?" Sam yelled across the boat.

"Sweetie, I told you we had to stop for supplies. You've complained about every port we sailed near. We’re now low on all of our rations and we _need_ to stop," Grant called back.

"Well, this one doesn't work for me either. What could they possibly have for us in Elk Grove? You promised me a romantic trip; does that sound like somewhere romantic to you?"

"I remember when you used to think anyplace were together was a romantic spot," Grant answered as he walked over to stand behind Sammy.

"Again, you promised me romance," Sam snapped as he untangled Grant's hands from his waist.  
"Sam, you're going to be bitchy about wherever we stop so just deal with it," Grant snapped back.  
"Well, I see some things never change huh, Sammy?" 

Sam spun around so fast at the intrusion; he was surprised he didn't fall overboard. Maybe he would've been lucky to hit the sea.

"Dean," was all he managed to get out at the sight of his brother.

"What are _you_ doing here?" At any other time he would've found it amusing that even after five years apart, they could still mirror each other's thoughts and speak in perfect unison. But the five years they spent apart wasn't long enough to soothe the pain of being rejected.

"I know I didn't invite you. So would you kindly get the fuck off of my boat?" Sam said with all the mock southern sweetness he could manage. He thought somewhere in the Deep South there were Southern Belles drinking mint juleps that would be damn proud of his accent.

"Don't get your panties in a bunch. Someone called about a job. _A rushed emergency job_. My boss thought some dumb ass was going to sink and possibly drown, so he sent me out here double time."

“You’re also being paid double your normal rate," Sam reminded him.

"You want the best it'll cost you."

"I didn't want anyone, but you can be damn sure if I had wanted someone it wouldn't have been _you_."  
"Wow, still nursing that grudge I see."

"Is that what you call it? A grudge? Dean, you make it sound like you wouldn't share your favorite toy."

"You gotta admit it’s an awesome toy. I do remember you _really_ wanted to play with it."

 

"You’re an asshole. Why don't you go back to whatever it is you do and let someone else come out here?"

"Is that someone else going to feed my family? I hate to admit it, but I need the money. You remember what that was like, right? You actually liked eating more than once per day. Not to mention clothes. The girls need some new things, and my boy always needs stuff."

"Family? You mean the great and mighty Dean quit the family business? Don't tell me you're dragging some clueless girl and a couple of brats around the country with you. I guess you did turn out to be just like Dad after all."

"Fuck you, Sam! I got hired to do a job, so tell me what that is and then leave me the fuck alone," Dean practically growled.

"Whatever, man, just follow me." Sam led him below deck to the stateroom.

"I'm tired of arguing over closet space. We each need a place to keep our things. I want you to figure out a way to keep our shoes off the floor. Our ties are silk and can't be shoved in a door like those cheap cotton ones you and Dad always favored. We don't own a lot of jewelry, but the few pieces we do own need to be better organized."

"Are you serious?"

"What? Is the job above your level of handyman skills? Should I just save us the trouble and fire you now?"

"You really think that redecorating your closet is an emergency, Sammy?" Dean rolled his eyes at him.

"I think as long as I'm paying you the emergency is whatever the fuck _I_ say it is. No one calls me Sammy anymore."  
"You sure grew up to be a real bastard, huh, _Sammy_?"

"I'm not a bastard I'm just a realist. I know this is _not_ going to work out." He gestured between them.

"I'm sure you have better things to do than watch me play handyman in your bedroom. Or maybe you don't," Dean called out with a little hip shimmy.

"Asshole!" Sam hissed as he spun on his heel and stomped out of the room. He walked out to the deck, hoping a little sea air would help calm him down. Not being able to see Dean was just an added bonus. How dare he just waltz in here and act like that? Like their whole life together had been nothing but a joke.

He'd dreamt about the day he would run into his asshole brother ever since he got on the bus to California. None of his fantasies were like what he just experienced. In his fantasies Dean was always glad to see him.  
He was guilt stricken over their last night together. He always told Sam that his biggest regret was that he'd allowed Sam to just walk out of his life. That he'd been pining for what could've been all these years.  
It was a slap in the face to find out that Dean'd settled down with someone and started a family. It killed him to think that somewhere out there some dumb bitch was living what should've been his life. The life he'd scrimped and conned for as long as he could remember.

Sam sat on the deck chair, turning the gold and diamond band that Grant had given him on his ring finger. He remembered how happy he was when he opened the little box on his last birthday. He slid it off and placed it on the small table that sat next to his chair. He tried to think of all the reasons he loved Grant. He wondered if he really did love him. He loved their life. Everyone they knew wanted their life. He liked being the person everyone wanted to be like. It brought up a nagging thought; was loving his life with Grant the same as being in love with him? If anyone had asked him before this afternoon he would've been sure the answer would be yes. Before this afternoon his life had still made sense. He had a plan and had done his best to stick to it. That plan did not include the dumb ass who casually just tossed him aside. He just wished he believed that.

Unfortunately, seeing Dean reminded him what he still wanted most. He wished he could've been the stronger person and just paid Dean some type of severance pay and then tossed his still gorgeous ass off the boat. Dean looked every bit as good as he did the last time Sam had seen him. It wasn't fair that he still looked that good. In a just and fair world Dean would've gained forty pounds or lost his hair. In a perfect world both of those things would've happened to him. Instead, he looked even better than he had the last time Sam had seen him.

He knew he wouldn't get anything accomplished if he was just going to sit there, mooning over his brother. Sam found enough little things in the galley to keep him busy and away from Dean for the rest of his day. The kitchen crew wasn't happy that he decided to supervise how they chose to spend their time. He reminded himself that they paid the crew's salary and didn't need to feel loved by any of them.

He waited until he was sure Dean was gone for the day before he ventured back out on the upper deck. He was ready to write Dean a check and kick him off the yacht hours ago. He knew Dean would be done by now. He may have given him shit about the job being beyond his skills, but he knew that was bullshit. He'd watched Dean build and rebuild more things than he wanted to think about when they were growing up. He pushed his way into the bedroom and was surprised to see Dean that had finished. Even for Dean that was impressive.

"Your damned emergency fix is done. I built you shelves that swing out and the back ones come forward for your shoes. There are two spinning racks for your ties. You have small boxes along the wall behind you for your sparkly crap," Dean explained what he'd been doing all day.

"Dean, what kind of wood did you use?" Sam ran his fingers over the small boxes Dean had made.

"Oak, why?"

"You used oak? You used oak in a closet? Why would you do something so moronic? Everyone with a fucking brain knows closets are made of cedar."

"Well maybe you should have spelled it out for me. Seeing as I am such a goddamn dumb ass that never went to college."

"Whose fault is that, Dean? I know I had a rock solid plan about college and you threw it back in my face." Sam turned on his heel and stormed off.

"Hey, Princess, you want cedar, I can do cedar. It’ll double the cost," Dean called after him.

"I'm not paying extra because you're a dumb fuck that never had a proper closet."

"I did the job once and you owe me for my time and materials. If you want me to tear it out and redo it it'll cost you." Dean stood in front of Sammy. 

“What do you think you’re doing? That offer expired five years ago when you walked out on me.”  
“What? Seriously, you thought...? No, I wasn’t planning on being the one you cheat on your _boyfriend_ with. No matter what you think of me. I do have some self-respect. Self respect and a fucking heavy tool belt, after dicking around in your closet all day." Dean dropped his belt on the deck chair beside him, before leaning in towards Sammy, "Now about my cash. I was serious; I have three kids at home that need new clothes and food. You remember what it was like to need that kind of crap. Would you really deprive them of the basic necessities, just because you're a self-centered asshole who can't give decent instructions?"

Sam wasn't sure what exactly happened next. One minute he was thinking how dare Dean throw his desire for a normal childhood in his face, the next minute Dean was falling overboard and crashing into the cold water below. Sam decided that it was only right to give Dean back his precious tools as well.

"You bastard! If you even think about it, Sam, I will kick your ass," Dean threatened when he saw Sam heft his tool belt over the railing. 

"Yeah, I don't think so," Sam called back. He barely missed hitting Dean with it.

"You spoiled little shit! What the fuck is the matter with you?"

"The running answer is I have abandonment issues, commitment issues, oh and for some fucked up reason I have trust issues." Sam finished his hissy fit by tossing Dean's tool box in with him.

Sam watched Dean slowly make his way to the pier. He knew he should've felt guilty about tossing him and his tools overboard, but instead, he just felt vindicated. All of the therapy sessions he'd had and nothing made him feel this good.  
When Sam turned around he saw Grant, standing there, staring at him with an odd expression on his face.

"I stopped and got dinner. Fried chicken and all the trimmings. I thought we could have picnic in bed and give the crew the night off," Grant called back as he walked towards their room.

Sam quickly followed him and watched as he laid the food out on the table. He must've changed his mind about the picnic in bed. He was glad to see all the trimmings had included beer. Sam wished there was a way to open a bottle of something harder. He took one look at Grant and decided that it wouldn't be a good idea.

"Are we going to talk about it?" Grant asked him.  
"About what?"

"I'm not stupid, Sam. That carpenter guy was someone important from your well guarded and treasured past. I'm used to you being tight-lipped about your life before we met. In the past few years we've been together, I've learned enough to maybe fill an index card about you. But I do know enough to know that seeing that Dean guy really fucked you up."

"Of all the people I expected to run into again, he was nowhere in the list." Sam nodded.

"I gathered as much. I think the freakier thing is how I'm a dead ringer for his little brother. I wouldn't say we look like long lost twins, but damn we do look an awful lot alike. That makes me wonder if I've just been a stand in for him."

"That's crazy. Sure, Dean and I were close. He broke my heart, but I haven't been pinning for him. I sure as hell haven't wanted a stand in. That dude fucking rejected me. Seriously, I told him I loved him. I wanted him to run away with me and start our life together and the asshole told me no and literally dumped me on my ass. Any thoughts you have about me nursing any kinds of warm fuzzies over him is totally off base." Sam grabbed another beer from the ice bucket that sat on the empty chair between them. He wished Grant had brought something stronger. This wasn't a conversation he wanted to have in the first place and it sure wasn't one he wanted to even think about sober.

"Can we talk about something else?" Sam wished his miserable day would just end. Short of that happening, he would settle for not having to talk about or think about Dean.

"I think I'm, no I know I'm a damn good catch, Sam. I deserve to be more than someone's safety net. I want to be more than just your second choice."

"Have I ever made you think you were?" Sam wished that they'd never stopped at the port in Elk Grove. Life was so much simpler, before Dean blew back into his life.

"I don't want to fight about it. I’ll just say you had more passion with that bizarre run in you had with him than you and I have ever had. That right there says something." Grant took the stacked the plates, before leaving Sam alone with his thoughts.

Sam lay on the bed, nursing the last couple of beers, while waiting for Grant to come back. He wondered what he was going to do if Grant left him. He still couldn't believe how badly his life had changed since he came aboard the damned boat.  
He woke sometime later when Grant slipped into the bed beside him.

"I'm sorry, Sam. I didn't mean to pick a fight. There was just something about watching you with him that made me feel insecure," Grant whispered as he pulled Sam closer to him. He slipped his arm around Sam's waist to interlock their fingers like he had every night they'd spent together. 

"I guess that explains your choice." Grant shoved Sam off the bed.  
"What the hell are you talking about?" Sam asked him. He couldn't recall being asked anything, let alone making a choice.

"Your ring’s missing. The same ring you promised you'd never take off and up until that Dean guy waltzed back into your life you hadn't."

Sam decided not to argue. He grabbed his pillow and a soft fleece throw, before heading back on deck. He thought he must've left his ring out there. He was relieved to see the gold sparkling in the moonlight. He’d accidentally dropped it by the edge of the deck. He hoped that when he showed Grant he hadn't lost it, maybe that would help smooth things out with him.

That was the last thought he had had, before a rough wave sent him crashing into the cold water below.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He felt someone shaking him and he struggled to open his eyes.

"Come on, son, open your eyes."

"Where am I?"

"You're in Community Hospital. Do you remember how you got here?" 

He looked up and assumed the man standing before him was a doctor. He could only shake his head. He had no idea what had happened to him.

"Let's start with the easy questions. Can you tell me your name? What you were doing in water before sunrise?"

"I was out swimming in the water before sunrise? I was alone that really doesn't sound like me. Did you say this was a community hospital? I know that does _not_ sound like me. I demand that you transfer me to a better hospital immediately."

"Can you tell me who you are?" the doctor asked him.

"Of course I can. Everyone knows who they are."

"That's true, but I'm not concerned about everyone. My only concern is you."

"I refuse to answer any more of your questions. I have rights. All patients have rights."

"That's right you do. As soon as you can tell who you are I will personally put the papers through myself."

That was an unacceptable answer. He decided to prove that point by throwing everything he could at the doctor. He screamed and threw things until his eyes slipped closed and he gave into the darkness.

When he woke later, his eyes felt heavy and gummy. He felt sluggish all over and somehow knew he'd been drugged. He wondered how he knew that. What kind of life was he living?

"I see you're awake again. I trust you will behave yourself. I’ll not tolerate any more temper tantrums, are we clear?" the doctor from earlier asked him.

He knew he had no other choice except to agree. When he woke in that second hospital room he realized how bad his situation really was. He couldn't be sure that anyone even knew he was missing. From what he could tell Elk Cove was a small town so someone should've noticed he's never made it back from his swim. There was still something nagging him about that. He knew without a doubt that swimming in the cold water before the sun rose wasn't something he would do by choice. For all he knew there was a reason no one had bothered looking for him yet.

"If you think you can manage to not throw anything else I think we can manage a little time in the rec room."  
He quickly promised and hoped that soon something would spark his memory.

When he finally walked into the recreation room he wondered if he should've just stayed in his room. He was painfully aware that his outburst had made them question his sanity. After a quick look around the room, he decided to take the chair at the one small table in the room. He only wished that no one else had sat there. He hoped the man chewing on the checker pieces was as harmless as he looked.

He wished he had been given a newspaper as he thought that the current events might spark something for him. He wasn't sure why he felt so strongly about having a paper.

He looked up when the sheriff poked his head in the room and motioned to the doctor. He wondered what the other man could want in a place like this. He shrugged his shoulders and thought that most of the people in the room weren't there by choice. He knew he wasn't. He hoped there wasn't anyone to violent hiding out with them.

He wondered if he should have been more concerned when he saw the doctor show the sheriff into the room a moment later. He wondered where they'd dug up the fashion reject that followed them. The man was almost as tall as him and had a crew cut. Seriously, unless you are a kid, in jail, or in boot camp why would anyone wear one? His jeans were cheap and didn't fit him like a second skin like they should. He knew his t-shirt was off the rack. The only thing that had any sort of class was his leather jacket. The only reason it did was because it was obviously vintage. He decided someone must be here by court order, why else would the man in question have an envelope that looked stuffed with papers.

"Son, this nice man says you are without a doubt his husband." The doctor nodded at the newcomer.

"Sammy..."

"Does he have any proof? I’d like to think that if I had a husband I would remember him," he cut the man off, before he could get another word out.

"Why would someone pretend to be your husband? That's crazy talk. It's not like we have millions of bucks socked away in a secret account."

"I'm sure I'm worth more than a few hidden dollars."

"Sammy, you always did want to live above our means. Not that I am complaining, because of your creative shopping ideas we always lived well. "

"That really doesn't sound like me."

"We both grew up poor and you swore that our family wouldn't suffer the same embarrassment you felt."

"That sounds almost Lifetime movie of the weekish, but it still doesn't sound like me."

"Son, you're confused, you already said you don't even know who you are." The doctor smiled at the sheriff and his mystery man.

"Really? The sheriff said you were having memory problems, Sammy, but I had no idea you had complete amnesia. Dude, I must sound like an asshole." 

He watched as the guy pulled another chair over to the table.

"I'm Dean Winchester and, Sammy, we've been together practically our whole lives."

"Anyone can claim we're married, do you have any proof? You can't just let the first guy who wanders in and claims we're married have me. I'm not some prized fucking pig at the fair."

"I hate to say it, but he does have a point." The sheriff nodded.

"Right, yeah, that's why I brought all of this stuff. I thought I would need some kind of proof. I had a hell of a time finding all of it. I swear you have the craziest system for all of our important crap. I promise, after we get this mess sorted out, I’ll pay more attention to how you do things around the house from now on." 

He still wasn't convinced this Dean fella was his husband, but he had to admit there was something there. His green eyes sparkled with mischief, but there was something else there.

"Here’s Sammy's birth certificate, our marriage license, and old photos of us that go back for years."

"Paperwork can be altered." He wasn't sure why he felt so strongly about that. He knew that people did that for their own reasons. He wasn't sure that Dean wasn't one of those people.

"You always were a smart guy." 

Dean nudged his foot with his boot. He wondered why the praise from this unknown man made him feel so happy. He blamed the early morning swim. He must have a head trauma the country bumpkin doctor missed.

"Anything else you can think of to prove you're not a crackpot?"

"What about scars? If I could tell you where Sammy has some that aren't clearly visible and how he got them would that convince you?" 

He noticed that Dean wasn't looking at the doctor or the sheriff as he spoke. It was as if Dean were trying to look into his soul. He gave a slight nod and waited for Dean to speak.

"When you were seven you tried to scale a barbed wire fence and got stuck at the top. You were so brave you barely cried. I wanted to cry just looking at you stuck up there. I had to carefully climb up and untangle your jeans from the barbed wire. The metal cut into your leg something fierce. I know I freaked out more than you did. When you were about thirteen, you got in a fight with an asshole that was picking on a young girl. The dude was easy twice your size and you still stood up to him. The worst damage you got was when the asshole moved and you accidentally broke a window. You have a small scar on your right elbow because you managed to get a chunk of glass jammed in it," Dean explained.

"What kind of childhood did I have? Was I a klutz or was I just unlucky enough to have a parent with anger management issues?"

"No, your dad owned a salvage yard. Singer Salvage, does that ring any bells for you? No matter how many times both of our dads warned us about playing out among the wrecks we still found a way to do just that," Dean said.

Sammy could only nod. He wished he could remember something about his life. He decided that even a salvage yard was better than a hospital room on the psych ward.

"I'm convinced, Doc. You have yourself a winner." The sheriff tipped his hat and slipped out the door.

The doctor quickly produced Sammy's discharge papers and explained what symptoms they should watch for a  
and which ones they should rush back to the hospital if they occurred.

Dean handed him a shopping bag that had sneakers, sweats, a tee-shirt, as well as boxers and socks. He was grateful that he wouldn't be wearing the hospital gown in public. Dean's choice in wardrobe made him wonder what horrible cheap clothes he's brought him.

Sammy followed Dean out to where he'd parked an old beat up pickup truck. There was something off about that. He had small doubts nagging at the back of his head since Dean had shown up. It was like every time someone had called him Sammy he knew it wasn't wrong, but it wasn't right either. There was defiantly more to the story than Dean was telling them.  
"...Haven't really done too much with it yet. I'm sure you’ll have it looking amazing in no time." 

Sammy wished he felt as optimistic as Dean sounded. He leaned his head back closed his eyes and tied his best not to panic. 

It wasn't long before Dean stopped the truck and patted him on the knee. "I know it ain’t much now, but it’s a step up from some of the other places we lived in."

Sammy closed his eyes as soon as he had opened them. "Are you serious? We live here? We actually looked at this place and decided to move our things in? Why? Where the hell were we living before that _this_ is a step up?"  
The porch was sagging. It hadn't been painted since before he was born, maybe even longer. The roof looked as though it was ready to collapse and the damned thing leaned to the left. If the outside was this bad he shuddered at the thought of what the condition was inside.

"Papa!" was all the warning he got before a small blond girl jumped at him from the top of the porch.

"Sweetie, remember we had that talk this morning. I told you Papa had a boo-boo in his head. I explained that he might night know who you are when he got here." Dean walked over to them and stretched his arms out for her to come to him.  
The child would not be swayed. She clung even tighter to Sammy's neck. "Papa?"

"Uh, Sweetie..." Sammy tried to reassure the little girl. The last thing he wanted was a crying kid in his arms.

"You really don't 'member me?" she asked him. She smacked her forehead into his and stared into his eyes until her brown eyes crossed.

"I'm so sorry," he mumbled and looked over at Dean. He noticed that he kept mouthing one word over and over. It took him a moment to realize he was repeating the same thing. He knew that it was her name. "Jo, I hit my head." Sam shifted her a bit so she could see the small bandage she had thankfully missed on his forehead.

"Papa, got a owie?" 

"Papa went swimming, before the sun came up. He also forgot the number one rule about swimming. He went swimming without a buddy. That was bad because when he got hurt no one knew he was there," Dean explained.

"Jo, you know you're not supposed to run off." Sam my watched as a woman came running out of the house. "Oh, Dean, I should've known you were home. I swear I told them all to stay away from the door. This one just has a mind of her own. I'm glad to see you found Sam," she said in a rush and tried to take Jo from him.

"Gertie, Sammy smacked his head. The doc said he may get his memory back, but right now he has no clue about anything."  
"Oh, Sweetie, I am so sorry. If I can help, let me know. I hate to  
run, but I’m late for my lunch date. Did you want me to take Bobby for the day, while you get him settled?" she asked Dean.

"Thanks for the offer, Gertie, but I'm pretty sure we can manage. He has to get used to what our life is like at some point?"

Sammy wondered who Bobby was and what was wrong with him that Gertie was worried about leaving him with them.  
Dean held the front door open for him. As he walked into the house, he told himself that it couldn't be worse than the outside. He was wrong. The place was cluttered and filthy. He wondered what that said about their lives that the house was in such a state.

"Like I said we just moved in. Quit thinking that we suck at being a family," Dean whispered.

 

"How… ?"

"Like I said earlier, we grew up together. I don't think there’s anyone I know better than you." Dean grinned.  
"When did we move in yesterday?"

"Ha-ha, yeah I know we're still unpacking. Jo honey, where's Ellen’s and your brother?"

"Bobby's nappin' and Ellen is sitting wif him. She told me to stay, but I knewed you was home."

"Knew, you knew I was home," Dean absently corrected. "She's still having trouble with her th's," he whispered so only Sammy could hear.

"She's just a baby," Sammy whispered back.

"Papa, I not a baby."

Sammy wondered how she managed to sound so annoyed at her age. That couldn't be normal he thought. "How old are you?"

 

"Free!" 

Sammy realized that she meant three. "Wow, you are a big girl." He was surprisingly happy to see her smile at him. He wished he could remember if he liked kids. He decided he must, why else would they have three?

He followed Dean to what turned out to be the nursery.

"Papa!" 

His knees suddenly collided with another happy little girl. This one looked a little older than her sister.

"Don't wake the baby," Dean sounded like it was something he often reminded the girls.

"I know he needs sleep. I'm not a baby." The newest girl sighed and sounded old beyond her years.

"Ellen, do you remember when I told you that Papa was in the hospital? I wasn't sure what had happened to him?"  
"You said even if he didn't remember us that didn't mean that he didn't love us," she parroted back his words from earlier.

"That's right, now who’s ready for lunch?" Dean asked them.

Sammy watched as Jo pulled Ellen out of the room.

"Sammy, we better hurry before Jo decides that oatmeal raisin cookies and chocolate milk are a healthy lunch."

"Dean, can I cook?" Sammy asked as he hurried to catch up.

"Yeah, you can cook. You tend to favor the more healthy crap. You always make them eat their veggies and bitch at me when we stop for fast food."

"So you're the fun parent and I am the bad one?"

"Just with food. You've found ways to compromise and keep everyone happy. Like when you're in the mood for brownies. You make the best ones I've ever had. They are rich, fudgy and perfect. You just smirk and tell me they're not bad for us when I ask what's in them. That recipe is one of your most closely guarded secrets." Dean laughed and bumped Sammy's shoulder with his own.

Sammy tried not to laugh when he saw the plate of cookies and a half of gallon of chocolate milk on the table.  
"I have no clue what to even think about feeding them," Sammy whispered.

"That's alright. I'm sure we have a box of that organic white cheddar mac n cheese you like stashed in a cabinet somewhere."

"Then we can have the cookies Gertie baked?" Ellen asked, eying the plate.

"You both can have a couple, after you us promise you will take a nap after lunch with no complaints. Papa needs a nap as well."

Sammy watched as both girls nodded. He wondered about his life with them. It still felt alien to him. Like there was a part of him that didn't believe Dean's story. He hated to think that he was the type of dad that would've walked out on his family. If Dean hadn't found him in the hospital that's exactly what would've happened. The next thing he knew, Dean had slid a bowl of mac n' cheese in front of him as well. After the first bite, he realized that he couldn't remember when he ate last.

"I'm sorry about the crappy welcome home lunch. I should've had something better planned. I promise the first free night Gertie and Billy have, I'll get them to watch the kids. Then you and I will have the welcome home dinner you deserve."  
"I'm sure we'll have plenty of dinners out in the future." Sammy was looking forward to spending time with Dean.  
He had to promise the girls that he'd read them each an extra story before bed, if they would take a nap now. He tried not to smile while Dean grumbled that the cookies were payment enough. Sammy wondered if they weren't normally the kind of parents that bribed their kids.

Sammy told Dean if he could get the girls down for their nap, he would clean the kitchen. He was nervous about doing anything with the kids even though Dean had said that Sammy was the one who stayed home with them. He didn't want to call him a liar, but something about that didn't sound right to him. He wished he could get his memory back, before he did something unforgivable.

"It'll come back to you," Dean promised.

"I wish I could be as sure as you are. I'm the worst Papa in the whole fucking world," he complained as he leaned back against Dean.

"You have to be kidding me. You're great with them. We’ve seen our share of bad dad moments and none of them were ours."

"I wish I could remember. What kind of dad forgets he has kids? They should've been the first things I thought about when I woke up in the damn hospital. You know what I was more concerned about, my room. I was busy demanding a better room. Why wasn't my first thought about my family? My husband, who I’ve known for what sounds like my whole life, our three beautiful kids, and not once did I think to ask where they were. My god, what if they'd been out swimming with me?" Sammy asked as he made himself comfortable on the old couch in their living room.

"You can't beat yourself up over what happened. Trust me; there are plenty of times I've fucked up over the years. We both have and we’ll no doubt keep fucking up for the rest of our lives." Dean handed him a beer. “I thought that we both deserved one of these.”

They kept the conversation light after that. Dean told him stories about growing up in a salvage yard. He explained that his own dad was a mechanic and had worked for Sammy's dad. Both of their moms had died when they were little, and their dads saw no reason that Dean couldn't come to the shop every day. As long as one of them was around to keep an eye on the boys, it was stupid for either one of them to pay for a baby sitter.

Dean talked until Sammy was struggling to keep his eye open.

"Come on, big boy, I think Papa really does need a nap." Dean laughed as he helped Sammy to his feet.

"Maybe a small one," Sammy agreed as he followed Dean to what he assumed was their bedroom. It had one huge lumpy looking bed and a dresser that looked like it was about collapse in the corner.

Dean quick stripped him down to his boxers and his last thoughts were that the bed may be ugly, but it was damn comfortable as his eyes slipped closed.

"Sammy, you really have to get up. You needed to eat and drink something. You've been asleep for twenty-four hours. Billy called and he needs me down at the shop. I would've asked Gertie to come back, but she has plans today."  
"If you have to go to work, then you have to go. Do I work?"

"You chose to stay home with them. Remember? We decided that one of us should be around all the time, and you wanted to do it." Dean kissed him, before grabbing his tool belt from their closet.

"Wait!" Sammy shouted as he flung the blankets back. "I remember something."

"Really?" Dean asked from the doorway

"Something about you and your tool belt and the closet."

"Yeah, you always did like to role play _how do I pay the handy man or delivery guy with no money_.  
"Dean, I'm being serious. It's more than a sex thing."

"You figure it out and let me know. Babe, I've really got to go. Billy will blow a gasket if I'm not there soon."  
It wasn't long after Dean left, when the girls came running into the room.

"Daddy made oatmeal and he said you have to eat a whole bowl," Ellen told him.

"He said if you made an icky face that I could tell you there are raisins in the snack bin. I think that's an icky face." She laughed when he made a face. He took a deep breath and grabbed the girls, before taking a moment to check on the baby.  
He was surprised how quickly the day passed for him. It wasn't long, before Dean came home with a couple of pizzas. Sammy decided then that if he was going to get his life back, then he would have to start doing everything he used to. He asked Dean to make him a list of the little things as well as the big things. He hated that he still couldn't remember anything, before waking up in the hospital.

Once he had the list it was easy to find his own routine for the day. It only took him a week to make the house look presentable and recreate his bond with the kids. Sammy was glad that Dean had the day off on Saturday. Sammy had planned a family day that started with a waffle bar for breakfast and then a trip to the zoo.  
He was double checking that they had everything they needed in the diaper bag, when a familiar sound stopped him dead in his tracks.

"I know you don't like anyone touching your Baby, but you know I wouldn't hurt her. I thought you would want her now that she has all her missing parts." Billy was laughing.

"Dean, you fucking asshole." Sam slapped him. He kept reminding himself not to punch his brother in his lying, scheming face as everything came flooding back to him.

"Sammy?"

"I told you before on the _yacht_ no one calls me Sammy anymore."

Sam watched as Dean jogged over to where Billy stood with a confused look on his face.

"Ellen, Jo, do you know that Gertie has never been to the zoo? Would you two do me a favor and let us take you to the zoo?" Billy said.

Sam watched as the girls scrambled to get into their car seats in the old car Dean had used for the last week. Sam smiled and waved as the girls stopped and blew kisses towards them.  
"Sammy, Sam, I can explain."

"I figured out what happened. You're an asshole and decide that breaking my heart when I was eighteen wasn't enough payback for you. You had to set up this elaborate fantasy life just to pull it away. I always knew you could be an asshole, but you've never been this cruel before."

"Sam, when you dropped your bombshell on me when we were younger, you left before I could even really wrap my head around it. I admit I handled it badly, but I really had no clue you felt like that. If you had told me about your plan without the extra bonus of making out with me, I might have handled it better. After I left, I sat in a parking lot and worked out what you said and how I really felt about what you wanted. I came home to an empty house and Dad calling,demanding to know what the hell happened that you ran away from us."

"I couldn't hunt with you during the day and sleep in the same room with you every night," Sam admitted.

"The question is do you still feel the same about me? What about that Grant guy?" Dean wondered aloud.

"I'm pretty sure Grant and I broke up after you left. He said he didn't want to be my second choice."  
"What do you think? Could we be a family? You, me, and the kids?"

"Dean, where did they come from? Do you have a wife stashed away? Did she wind up like... Mom? That reminds me, where's Dad?" Sam asked as he walked back into the house.

"I'm sorry,Sam,Dad took down the demon that got Mom. It wasn't alone and Dad never made it out of the building." Dean handed Sam a beer and sat beside him on the couch.

"I'm sorry. That explains that, but what about the kids?"

"That happened two weeks ago. I was on a hunt for a witch with Bobby, Ellen, and her daughter Jo. I got her and with her dying breath she cursed them. We came here so Billy could help find a cure. He's one of Bobby's old partners. It looks like it's permanent."

“‘So what are your plans now?" Sam wondered.

"That depends on you. Do you think you can forgive me? We can start fresh in someplace totally new. We can either run and live at Bobby's, or Ellen owns Harvell's Roadhouse, It's a great hunter friendly bar."

"I need to think about this. Why don't you go have a drink somewhere and come back later," Sam suggested. He was glad that Dean left without a fight. He watched out the window once more as the Impala took Dean away from him. This time he reminded himself that Dean would be back  
.  
He went and sat by Bobby's crib and wondered why he never noticed how much he looked like their Uncle Bobby. "What do you think? Should I forgive him? You know I will. The most important question is where do we want to raise you and the girls? Dean and I love your place, but I think that had more to do with you."

He called Dean with his decision not long after that.

"I think I need some time with all of these changes. Last week I was practically married to Grant. Then I lost my memory and gained a family. Why don't I take the kid's to the roadhouse and get settled. You're going to sort and pack through Bobby's stuff. You’ll call all the time. We can work on making this work," Sam told him. He quickly booked their flight and packed what little clothes he and the kids had. It may not have been the perfect future he envisioned when he was younger, but he knew it would be perfect for them.


End file.
